A Clap of Thunder in a Cloudless Sky
by knightshade
Summary: Kitt ponders human inspiration while Michael tries to come up with an explanation for their current case.


Title: A Clap of Thunder in a Cloudless Sky

Author: knightshade

Rating: G

Summary: Kitt ponders human inspiration while Michael tries to come up with an explanation for their current case.

Disclaimer: I don't own Knight Rider, its characters, ideas, branches, divisions, or wholly owned subsidiaries. See Glen A. Larson and Universal.

Author's Notes: I asked the muse if we could please write some Michael and Kitt buddy fic. This is what resulted. Not quite buddy fic, but so be it.

**A Clap of Thunder in a Cloudless Sky**

Kitt admired human ingenuity and inspiration. As a computer program, he did not have the ability to be creative. At least not in the same way that Michael did. When Kitt needed to solve a problem he analyzed all the available data and determined the solution that most accurately fit that data. If there wasn't enough information to determine the solution, he would investigate or research further. Often this process involved waiting for the appropriate data to become available. Michael followed a similar approach, but when he didn't have enough data to determine an answer he ruminated on it for days or even weeks on end. This would often spark a form of divine intervention Michael called a 'gut feeling.' This gut feeling often arrived in an unexpected and mystifying flash of inspiration. At first Kitt had not known what to make of this phenomenon. The solutions to problems arrived like claps of thunder in a cloudless sky. Michael could be driving, sleeping, or going for a jog and suddenly he would stop what he was doing to immediately find Kitt and eagerly explain his breakthrough. At first this was quite startling. Kitt had often had to take control of the car to keep them on the road. But by now, he expected them, although expectation and understanding were not the same thing. And it wasn't a unique quirk of Michael's. He had seen something similar in Bonnie when she was fixing bugs in her code or coming up with new functions for him.

Kitt was perplexed by the pleasure his human friends derived from these sudden inspirations. Bonnie would smile or laugh out loud, her cheeks flush, and Michael wasn't above whooping or hollering. Kitt just didn't have a frame of reference for that kind of mental release. And of course, the reverse was true as well. While waiting for inspiration to strike, his friends could be moody, difficult, and withdrawn - which described the current situation with Michael.

"You're brooding," Kitt said to a clearly distracted Michael. His eyes were blank and he'd barely moved during the drive from the museum.

"Yeah. I just can't figure out how they're getting the artifacts out of the museum's collection, pal. It's driving me nuts."

"I can see that," Kitt responded. "Michael, from everything I've read about human physiology, your brain will work better if you take care of your body."

At that, Michael's eyes focused on their surroundings. "Wait, where are we?"

"The diner we've passed by every day while on this case. The one you mentioned in passing that you'd like to try."

"You brought me to the diner?" Michael asked, incredulously.

"While it's debatable whether or not this counts as 'taking care of your body,' you skipped both breakfast and lunch today. You need sustenance. I figured this would at least meet that low bar."

"I had coffee," he protested weakly.

"As I said, you skipped both breakfast and lunch." Which was not unusual when brooding over a case.

Michael glanced at the diner and then back down at the voice modulator. "Yeah, ok," he said. "I guess I am pretty hungry."

Kitt monitored Michael as he went in and got a booth near the window. He thought about activating the comlink to voice his dismay over Michael's choice of meal, but decided against it. At least Michael was eating.

The waitress returned with Michael's food and they talked for a few minutes. It was late and Michael was one of only three patrons. Based on his knowledge of Michael and his interactions with women, Kitt would assume they were flirting. After 2.45 minutes, she left and Michael sunk into a distracted stupor. His mind was obviously 'chewing' on the case just as surely as his jaw was chewing his cheeseburger and fries. He finished and sat in the booth, staring absentmindedly out the window. The waitress came back with his check. Then Kitt observed him regain his focus, pay for his meal, and come back outside.

They drove to the motel in silence.

"I just wish I could figure out how they're doing it," Michael said after Kitt had parked outside his room.

"Michael, you borrowed every motion sensor Bonnie could get her hands on. We'll know how they're doing it in a few days." They had tried staking out the museum, but after two weeks the thieves had not made a reappearance. Now Kitt was remotely connected to the museum's closed circuit TV system. The aforementioned motion sensors were set up in every gallery in the museum. In theory it would allow Michael a more normal schedule and a better chance of catching the culprits.

"You're right, pal." Michael patted the dash. "I guess I'll get some sleep."

"Good night, Michael," Kitt said affectionately.

He was not surprised when two hours of tossing and turning later, Michael came padding out in his sweatpants, barefoot with a beer in his hand.

"Can't sleep, Michael?"

Michael sighed, opened his door and sank into the driver's seat. "No." He took a swig of his beer. Kitt squashed the urge to tell Michael that that wasn't going to help him find an answer, because the truth was, he didn't know. He didn't know exactly what caused a hunch. There were psychological and neuroscientific theories about the subconscious and various chemical and brain pathways, but none was established fact. Maybe the beer would help Michael notice some small forgotten fact, lodged in his subconscious that could provide a break in the case. That was the difference between Kitt and his human companions. He knew everything he knew. He was aware of every detail he had perceived. He had nothing, therefore, to form the basis of a hunch.

"Michael, we'll solve the case. It may just take time."

"I know. Patience has just never been my strongest virtue," Michael said.

"Or one you possess at all?" Kitt teased.

"Yeah, yeah," Michael griped. "So anything on the motion sensors?"

"Nothing, I'm afraid. And if this is an inside job, they may know about them."

"I've thought about that. But I really don't think it's an inside job. We vetted everyone with access and there's nothing to point the finger at anyone."

"You could be right."

They sat in companionable silence while Michael finished his beer.

"Michael, go to bed. You'll be able to think more clearly if you're well rested."

Michael laughed. "Yes, mom," he said, but opened the door and went back into the motel room anyway.

It was seven in the morning when Michael came flying out of the motel room again. "Kitt, I got it. I think what they're doing is…"

He stopped abruptly and frowned when he tried to pull open Kitt's door and it wouldn't budge. "Ah, Kitt?"

"Michael, I'm thrilled that you've had a breakthrough and I would love to discuss it with you. However, you could have finished your shower before racing out here to tell me about it. I do not want your soapy shower water in my upholstery," he said primly.

Michael glanced down and seemed to suddenly notice the sudsy rivulets rolling down his chest and legs. He touched his hair absentmindedly, and seemed genuinely confused by the shampoo still lingering near his ear. At least he'd had enough presence of mind to wrap a towel around his waist before making an appearance in the parking lot, Kitt mused.

"Uh, yeah." He shook his head and patted Kitt's hood. "I'll just go do that," he said, wearing a bemused expression. "I'll be back in ten."

"Take your time, Michael." The museum wasn't going anywhere.

Michael had turned back toward his room when Kitt said, "These flashes of inspiration you get are one of those human experiences that I can't partake of first hand, but in a way, I do wish I could. They seem so all encompassing."

"Oh, they are. Sometimes I wish they were a little less so," Michael said, hitching up his towel and disappearing back into his motel room.

-knightshade

December 29, 2014


End file.
